
All night long they clung to each other, bobbing on a sea of whisky and memories and dreams, lashed to a floating spar that sank and rose and sank and rose again.
All night long they clung to each other, bobbing on a sea of whisky and memories and dreams, lashed to a floating spar that sank and rose and sank and rose again.
A collection of all the articles we’ve published over the past month, for those who like to savor their Magpies’ tidings as an issue.
Creation as an act of remembering and remembering as an act of creation is the unofficial theme of our August issue.
“Maybe this meant something, maybe it didn’t.”
“I know that part of my attraction to a lone old car on some quiet urban street or sitting out in the desert is because it plays into a fantasy of a time after the car.”
But this magical madeleine and tea, which he accepts while full of adult cares and woes, brings him such joy that he no longer feels mediocre, accidental, mortal, which is what being an adult feels like, on a bad day.
We quickly find ourselves in hypnagogic territory, sorting real, unreal, and surreal at the edges of a dream.
The dowry becomes a cathartic process of mourning, remembrance and consolation.
Of course the truth is that despite the fact that advertising agencies are shaming us into looking alike on the outside and conservative politicians are trying to make sure we’re all the same race and religion, despite the fact that we haven’t always had the highest tolerance for difference, America has a splendid history of eccentrics, some celebrated, some obscure and forgotten.
“Even if it’s just the way the light is hitting a glass or a strange assortment of items on a table or power lines swooped in front of a house. And really these moments of beauty can be fleeting so it feels nice to capture them somehow. “